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I usually give a CD a significant number of spins before I start writing a review, but in the case of, La Lechuza, the new disc from Mustangs and Madras a couple of turns through was sufficient for my purposes. On the good side, the band manages to throw together a number of arresting guitar lines, and a few decent melodies sneak their way through the mix, reminding me of bands like "At the Drive In."

On the bad side, well, it mostly begins and ends with the whiny, often off-key, ridiculously grating singing of vocalist Nick Krier. He’s going for a punk/hardcore mode of expression, to fit the overall post-hardcore ethic of the band, and at times, his delivery is compelling. For the most part, however, the tones he produces are all but unlistenable, dragging the album down in its wake. It’s telling that my favorite cut on La Lechuza is the instrumental track, Now It’s Fucking Saturday, not for its fun punk/ska vibe, but instead for the fact that I didn’t have to hear Krier’s voice. Frankly, the cool instrumentation on display within Now It’s Fucking Saturday, was key to my giving this disc a second chance, to see what else I’d missed out while trying to block out the vocals.

There certainly is some decent stuff available on La Lechuza. Mustangs and Madras mess around with the usual post-hardcore formula to add in a few almost art-rock touches. On a number of tracks, the rhythm section sets up some very angular structures for the guitars to wrap themselves around. Krier adds a saxophone in unexpected places, contributing an incongruent but not unwelcome note to the proceeding. The band also manages to weave the Mexican heritage of three of the band’s members into the music, dropping a couple of south-of-the-border-flavored melodies into the proceedings.

Lyrically, the band presents a generally world-weary image, hitting on topics of drugs and guns, among others. The words sometimes seem to flow somewhat stream of consciously, if the hit and miss verbiage of album opener, TB Tafy, is any indication. For each thought-provoking line like, "Fell away from you as I tapped my arm and begged for armor," there’s a cringe-inducing counterpart, "Yes, the curtains fell down like drool hanging from our chins." The track, Paradox of Grace, references the Columbine shootings, which occurred in the band’s home state of Colorado, but you wouldn’t know it by reading the way-too-small print in the liner notes. Once the lyrics are read with that thought in my mind, you're left to wonder whether they're talking about the incident from the point of view of the killers, "We took the wrong road and i guess it cost us dearly/We put the false face forward and smiled so insincerely/and now it's all just muscle memory." The song's point is hammered home, and not subtly, by clips of anguished 911 calls made from the school that day.

The problem is, even with compelling elements present, it’s just too difficult for this reviewer to ignore the vocals in favor of listening to what’s good about La Lechuza. There’s definitely an audience for this stuff out there, as fans of Fugazi, the aforementioned "At the Drive In," and its descendent band, "Sparta," should be able to get into what Mustangs & Madras have to offer. But it’s just not for me.